(stories you never knew you wanted to read)

Literary Lion- Brain Freeze

As a way of keeping my brain alert and to get myself some much needed practice writing fiction, I have decided to participate in a bi-weekly writing activity prompted by the Literary Lion. My piece can be no longer than 400 words long. This week’s theme was LIMERICK. I hope you enjoy.

The clock ticks mercilessly above her right ear reminding her of all the responsibilities she has taken on and how little time she has allowed to dedicate herself to them. Empty space on the computer screen taunts her as she tries to find her way to the story she knows is buried deep inside her soul. But that story just won’t come out—it has moved within her body and now hovers on the tips of her fingers, driving her mad with impatience, promising something…something…but never fulfilling.

She spares a quick glance to the clock, as if to tell it to back off, and begins to type. Hardly knowing what is being expunged from her mind she forges on, hoping against all hope that at the very least there are words that can be manipulated and used as the foundation for an intriguing and entertaining story. Several seconds pass and she pauses to look at the mess of words that now mar the stark whiteness of the screen. Although she is not surprised by the words that have appeared, her eyebrow raises up in response to the emotion that is displayed: LIMERICK! LIMERICK! LIMERICK! LIMERICK! LIMERICK!

It’s not a word she ever had much use for and definitely not one that she ever searched for, but it somehow entered her life and demanded that she acknowledge and embrace its existence and even expound on it—a challenge that seemed different, for sure, but also exciting and foreign and completely manageable. Days passed with vague notions of how to proceed: Should she write an actual limerick? Should she write about the time she was actually in Limerick? Should she release the word from her mind and as a consequence not complete the challenge? The overwhelming need to not be a coward compelled her to the moment she was now living (and failing) in spectacular form.

Releasing a small sigh, she erases the words that have evoked so much feeling. The flashing cursor begs her to do something (anything) that will move her from this stalemate and on to more manageable endeavors. Giving another small sigh she stretches her arms and fingers, places them on the keyboard then tries again:

The clock ticks mercilessly above her right ear reminding her of all the responsibilities she has taken on and how little time she has allowed to dedicate herself to them…